Surviving on Luck
by Finely Endowed
Summary: Jess thought surviving meant skill, agility, and weapons. She also thought that surviving meant being anyone but herself. She's about to learn that sometimes all it takes to live is a little intelligence and a whole lotta luck. Daryl/OC Language, Violence, and future smut. Rating may change.
1. Totally Fucked

**Disclaimer: **I've decided to admit this, to everyone, right on this site. I do not own the Walking Dead.

There. It's out there and there's no taking it back.

* * *

_Yeah, you're fucked all right and all for spite_

_You can kiss your sorry ass goodbye_

_Totally fucked, will they mess you up?_

_Well, you know they're gonna try_

Spring Awakening, Track 15 – Totally Fucked

* * *

Jess was currently trying to figure out how long it had been. She stepped over a large root, putting a hand on the tree trunk to steady herself.

Two weeks ago, she had finally decided to leave Atlanta. Three weeks before that, she had entered Atlanta, searching for safety. And a week before that, she had been in her car driving to a job interview when everything finally went to hell.

So counting today, that would make it… a month, one week, and five days since the zombie apocalypse started.

Jess couldn't understand why she, of all the important people in the world, had survived. Toward the end, there had even been reports of the president being infected. Of course, no one had been sure of anything, but she would bet her last granola bar that their great leader of the United States had become a lumbering, drooling zombie.

Of course, that posed the question, if the president, with all his body guards and safe houses, couldn't survive the zombie apocalypse, how could she?

She'd asked herself that question every day for the last six weeks.

After, like always, summing up no logical conclusion, she began a list of her pros and cons.

Pro: she knew her way around gardening and plants.

Con: she had no idea how to hunt.

Pro: she had hiked nearly all her life and had become accustomed to trekking long distances.

Con: she couldn't fight very well, not that zombies were interested in hand to hand combat.

Pro: she was quiet and was learning how to throw knives pretty decently.

Con: she knew absolutely, positively nothing about guns.

That last bit bothered her, more than she would like to admit. She had been born and raised in Georgia; she should just _know_ how to wield a weapon. Her father, god rest his soul, had forbidden guns. Her mother had felt the exact same way. By the time she had moved out, it had been ingrained in her to stay away from such weapons. Even if she found a gun, it wouldn't be of any use to her. She didn't have the simplest idea of how to handle it.

In fact, her parents had banned violence of any kind. Which only added to the puzzling question of: _how_ hadn't she died yet?

As if the world decided to back up her thoughts, she spotted a zombie, or a grabber as she preferred calling them, bumbling toward her. And not just any grabber, no, this one was gigantic. It had broad shoulders, a protruding gut, and thick legs. Jess could tell he must have been a very large, perhaps overweight, man at one point, but now he was just one of the things that wanted to eat her. Besides being wide, he stood tall and just barely missed running into low hanging branches. His large size didn't seem to hinder his movement at all and as soon as he caught sight of her he was lumbering forward with lopsided, but quick, steps.

She fumbled for her knife, the handle sticking out of her belt for easy access. Somehow, that easy access turned into difficult grasping as the edge of the knife became stuck on the leather of her belt. She silently cursed, mentally screaming at herself to yank her weapon out. She attempted to keep her eyes on the bloodthirsty monster, but they kept straying down to her uncooperative weapon. She was so hung up on dying. Well, maybe the world had decided to right its wrong by finally ending her.

She stumbled back a few steps, her eyes flicking from her belt to the grabber.

Just as the man came within a foot of her, the knife finally jerked loose and escaped the confines of her belt. She felt a small flash of relief.

That relief vanished as she looked back up to see the zombie lunging toward her.

She knew better than to scream, but she couldn't help the helpless squeak that came out as she was knocked back onto the dirt. Grubby hands grabbed at her shoulders, staining her loose tank top straps and causing decayed flesh to rub off onto her bare skin. His whole body covered hers, and if anyone was watching, they wouldn't even be able to spot her underneath his gigantic build. She tried to move her legs, kicking them as if she was a child having a tantrum, but she could barely feel them under the enormous grabber's weight. Her breath came out in one large gasp as the monster's full body mass crushed her chest and compressed her into the dirt.

Jess received a good view of his face. Flesh was peeling off at the cheekbones and chin. His eyes were a sick, dead yellow that only recognized her as meat. His lips had nearly disintegrated away, nothing but jaw bone and teeth left. Various hiss and growls met her ears, slipping out of his rotted and blackened teeth.

Those teeth made her cower even further back into the ground. Her arm holding the knife struggled to wiggle out from under his body. It was pinned directly underneath the side of his large stomach.

As she twisted and thrashed and wriggled around, dodging the grabber's teeth and trying to free her arm, her eyes landed on a rock.

Though the limb she truly need, the one gripping the knife, was trapped beneath this behemoth, her other was only partially stuck. The edge of her left hand was just barely confined. She rocked her whole body to the right, forcing the grabber to shift most its weight along with her.

Realistically, she knew it had only been a few seconds, but everything slowed down. It felt as if she was processing everything slower than she should be; her mind not in sync with the surroundings. Yet she knew if it had actually been minutes, she would have been bitten by now.

Her left hand slipped out, automatically scrambling to grasp the rock.

The first blow did nothing. The grabber continued snapping at her flesh, straining to get a bite of her human body. The second hit stunned it momentarily, but made it practically roar and snarl with desperation. As if sensing that it may not get its dinner, it began to attack more vehemently.

Jess brought her arm up high, straining it. Against her better judgment, she closed her eyes. With with a deep, constricted breath, she rammed her hand down as hard as could on the back of the grabber's head.

Either everything went absolutely silent in the woods or she blacked out momentarily. Time seemed to stretch on for a long period as her gasps stopped, the zombie's grunts ceased, and the birds ended their songs.

When she finally opened her eyes, thirty-two decaying, discolored teeth were the only thing in her eyesight. Luckily, they no longer snapped at her in hungry desperation.

A whole other battle ensued as she struggled to push the large monster off her. He had to weigh more than two hundred pounds-_way_ more. She pushed him away, her attempts feeble against his heavy bulk. Her whole torso twisted as she tried to escape and her back popped as she tried.

It took agonizing pushing and shoving, which she knew would leave her body sore and unreliable, but she finally managed to shove the grabber off of her.

Jess laid on the ground a few moments, letting her adrenaline and fear drop back down to normal levels. Her chest wheezed, trying to suck in the air she had been denied. She was sure her chest, and her breasts, were going to be bruised. Her legs and arms were practically jelly and they didn't want to cooperate after so much exertion.

"Okay," she sighed to herself, finally pushing herself into a sitting position, every muscle shaking. Another deep, gasping breath. "Time to get up."

After a few wobbly steps, everything began working normally again. The knife hung limply from her fingers, her hold just barely tight enough to keep it from falling. She placed it back in her belt, knowing she would need to find a better place to stow it. Her backpack slipped from her body and onto the ground carelessly. She was sure the contents were crushed anyway. She exhaled a long breath, unsure of how, once again, she managed to cheat death.

Jess didn't know why, but for some reason, she kept surviving. She had known people back in the normal world-survivors-willing to do anything and everything to live. She had never considered herself one of those people. She still didn't. She didn't have any skills, anything special about her. She didn't have an unstoppable will to live. Yet somehow, she managed to escape, if only barely, death.

A feeling of gratefulness welled up inside her, momentarily interrupting her internal questioning. She didn't need to know _why_ she was alive, just that she _was_.

Her hand came up to her shoulder, preparing to assess the damage of her top where the grabber had yanked on the straps. She only had so many clothes left to spare. Her fingers traced along the edge and she sighed, closing her eyes and distancing herself from the recent dance with death. She savored the feeling of her warm, alive flesh. Knowing it wasn't dead, unfeeling flesh. Knowing she still had time left to live.

She yelped, a slight stinging on her left shoulder causing her to wrench her hand away fast. Her eyes opened abruptly. They snapped to her fingers. She swallowed and her breathing stopped. The blood on her fingers had a bright crimson color, so different from the undead grabber's black, stagnant ooze. Her gaze hesitantly found the place her fingers had touched.

Underneath the strap, just barely at the tip of her shirt, a deep scratch stretched the short distance from her shoulder to the edge of her top. She didn't move; didn't breathe.

Jess slowly fingered the cut again, ignoring the hot, stinging sensation of pain. The pads of her fingers again came away smeared with blood.

She flicked her eyes from the scratch to her fingers slowly, and then finally, to the large zombie. The zombie whose left hand, if she squinted, had a spot of bright red on its fingers. She stepped back, shaking her head. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, thinking she might have become delusional.

No, the blood, the scratch, the _infection_, was still there. Was still real.

And here she had been, going on and on about her uncanny gift for surviving. Her ability to endure grueling, deadly situations and somehow come out on top. In the back of her mind she had been thinking she was simply blessed, when the truth was entirely different.

She was completely and totally fucked.

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**A/N: **Now, do you really think I would kill her within the first few chapters?

YES, YES I WOULD.

However, that's probably not the case. So I encourage you to stay tuned for the next chapter, whatever happens! Love anyone who took the time to read!


	2. Carry On

**Disclaimer that Finely Endowed says woefully:** I do not own the Walking Dead. It belongs to the mastermind Robert Kirkman and the geniuses at AMC.

Now here's my subpar spinoff of their brilliant work, my lovely readers!

* * *

_If you're lost and alone_

_Or you're sinking like a stone_

_Carry on_

_May your past be the sound _

_Of your feet upon the ground_

_Carry on_

FUN – Carry On

* * *

Jess scrubbed at the scratch determinedly, the small hand towel clutched tight between her fingers. She kept rewetting the skin with her water bottle and lathering up the area with her last bar of soap. Her eyes never strayed from her shoulder. The skin had long ago turned red and raw, either from the contagion or from her violent cleansing.

She really, really hoped it was the latter.

Her tank top lay strewn across a rock. The fabric now repulsed her and she had no urge to put it back on.

She gave her shoulder one last, harsh wash, forcing the rag roughly onto the skin and irritating the already angry cut.

With a tired sigh, she dropped the cloth onto the dirty ground, not even bothering to pick it up. It was ruined anyway. She knew cleaning the infected area was a long shot at best, but nothing else could be done. She couldn't kill herself. At least, no yet. Not without _knowing_. Without being one hundred percent positive she would turn into a mindless, walking corpse. She had always known she wouldn't survive long, not in this world, but that didn't mean she wanted to _die_. She made a promise right then and there. If she started showing any signs, any whatsoever, it was game over for her. She would muster up all of her courage, retrieve that useless knife stuck in her belt, and end herself. She would have to. She just couldn't… become one of _them_.

She sighed again, running a hand down her face.

"Okay, no moping. I have to… I need- I need to…"

She trailed off, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out something to do, some task to distract herself. She came up with nothing, her mind drawing a blank. She had been heading toward a small town outside of Atlanta to gather supplies before it happened.

Jess mechanically leaned over, retrieving her last clean shirt out of her pack with her mind fuzzy and conflicted. She knew she still desperately needed food and water, and more clothes, but what was the point? If she was only going to end up dead in a few hours, the trek would have been for nothing. She would have spent her last moments hiking through the humid forest instead resting in a cool, shady spot, waiting for the end to come.

Then again, if by some miraculous miracle, she pulled through, she wouldn't last long anyway. Not unless she went on with her original plans. Her backpack held one last water bottle, and that combined with the half full one in her hand, a few granola bars, some bags of chips, and a pair of shorts didn't promise a long survival.

Plus, it would be the most serendipitous coincidence if she found a working car and some gas.

That alone made her eager for the journey.

Her feet ached from constant walking and running. Sure, her pro list reminded her that she had the ever impressive ability to hike long distances, but everyone had their breaking limit. She would do almost anything for a vehicle at this point.

A sad expression came over her face as she remembered what had happened to her old car. She sighed.

Oh well, it belonged to a ditch now.

A fresh shirt on her back, a light grey V-neck that hid the infectious wound from sight, she slung her pack across her shoulders before taking her first few steps forward. She needed to carry on, despite everything that was pitted against her.

At least voyaging to the next town gave her something to do. Traveling wasn't exactly the distracting, mind absorbing task she needed, but it would do to keep her from going totally bat shit crazy while waiting to see if she needed to kill herself.

She scoffed to herself. Even thinking that made her seem crazy. She desperately yearned to ignore the facts, but the panic stirring in the pit of her stomach wouldn't let her. She just wanted to forget the whole incident ever happened and go on with her lonely, pitiful life.

"But I can't do that, can I?" Jess muttered cynically to herself. Here was another instance where she could have used a gun. It would make it so much easier, as sick as that sounded. Now, she would have to use a knife to kill herself, which would be considerably more unpleasant. "Or maybe I'll find some rope, and this can be done the old fashioned way," she spit out sarcastically.

Jess stumbled and nearly face planted into the ground. Instead, she landed on her jean covered knees, which protected her shins from being skinned. She dusted herself off with a huff. After climbing back up to her feet and cursing to herself, she put her hands on her hips, her face twisted up in a scowl.

"And now I can't even mumble bitterly to myself without risking death!" She threw her hands up.

Realistically, she knew a fall the ground wouldn't kill her, but still, even if it did, at least it would get the whole thing over with.

Resuming her angry steps, she continued north.

An hour later, she was either becoming paranoid or noticing the signs. Her skin grew redder, though it could have been the sun shining eagerly through the trees. Her breath grew shorter, though she had been walking for a while. She seemed to sweat more than usual, though it was hotter than normal outside. All of this could have been her imagination. Or nerves. Or stress.

Or the infection.

It should be only about an hour more before she reached her destination and she couldn't die now.

"I mean how inconvenient would that- oomph!"

Jess stared dazedly up at the treetops above her, trying to figure out exactly how she had gotten on the ground. She fisted the dirt underneath her palms and laid there for a moment, waiting for whatever had knocked her down to kill her.

She didn't wait there long, but instead of being eaten or murdered, a high pitched, loud voice reached her ears.

"Get up! Get up! Run!" She rolled over to her side, staring wide eyed at a four foot tall wild mess of tears and brown hair. He had freckles covering every inch of his face, and if it wasn't for the horror filled, scrunched up expression he wore, she would have commented on how adorable he was. "Come on, lady! You need to get up!" he yelled.

She blinked, wondering if she was hallucinating. The infection did that; it made you see things that couldn't possibly be real.

Then again, in her very limited experience, hallucinations involved people you at least _knew_.

A small hand yanked on her arm, bringing her from her thoughts.

"Come on!" he screamed.

She scrambled to her feet, not sure whether to trust her eyes or not, but going along anyway.

"What is it?" she asked hurriedly, looking the boy up and down. He had on a pair of dirty shorts with rips and tears at the hem. His legs were scratched up, as were his arms. His faded red t-shirt needed a good wash, but she didn't know if it could be salvaged with so much dirt and stains on it. "What's wrong?" she questioned, watching as he glanced behind him with large, light blue eyes.

"They're coming," he stressed, his breath panicky and uneven. He scanned the trees behind him again. She locked her feet and refused to move as he attempted to pull her toward the opposite direction she had been walking.

"Who's coming?"

He froze, his terrified eyes glued on something behind her. Jess slowly turned around.

"Holy shit," she breathed.

"Walkers," the boy mumbled, just as she hissed, "grabbers."

It only took a minute for her to comprehend everything before she took off, kicking up dust behind her. This time she was tugging along the stranger, his feet slowing her down. She yanked him forward until he caught up.

She could just barely hear the growls and moans behind her. The wind whistled past them, muting the petrifying sounds of the dead. There had to have been a hundred, maybe more. She had never seen so many of _them_. Their hungry, decomposing faces flashed in front of her eyes, urging her to run faster.

She examined the woods in front of her, searching desperately for some sort of salvation. Twigs and branches scratched at her arms as she ran. The earth pounded underneath her feet. Her sweat added to the boy's as she held his hand in a death grip and ran as if her life depended on it.

And it damn well did.

Her eyes lit up as she remembered something.

"I'm going to let go, okay?" she shouted, trying to keep her gaze trained on him and the ground in front of her.

"No!" a shrill voice retorted with fear.

She flicked her eyes to him sharply. "Just trust me, it will be alright!"

She sucked in deep breaths and pushed her feet faster. He stared at her with a frightened expression, but seemed to nod his head as he ran.

"Okay!"

Jess slowly unwrapped her fingers from around his. As soon as her both of her hands were free, she ripped her backpack off, struggling to keep it steady as she unzipped it. It only took a moment of rummaging before she found the item she was searching for.

Her hands were shaky as she pulled some duct tape out of her bag. She ripped a long piece off with her teeth before tossing the roll back into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder.

"When I tell you to run, head to the left!" she shouted, motioning with her hand.

He didn't reply, but she didn't have time to double check.

She hoped that it worked, because this air horn was her last. She had come up with the idea after raiding an old Walmart. The store had mostly been looted, but she managed to find what she needed, plus extra. That extra included some air horns, duct tape, and an idea.

It didn't take long for her to notice. The grabbers had a total of three senses to their use: sight, smell, and hearing. Their hearing directed almost every move they made. They could be midway through a delicious human meal and if their ears detected something, all other instincts went out the window.

She forcefully pulled the duct tape over the compressor, not even cringing as the horn blared out, loud and piercing.

"Run!" Jess screamed as loud as she could.

She barely noticed the kid veering left as she hurled the air horn as far as she physically could.

She didn't know if it worked. She didn't stop to look behind her and find out, she simply ran like a bat out of hell. It only took a few seconds to catch up with the boy, but it felt like an eternity until his hand was safely in hers again.

They must have run for hours, but she knew her perception of time was off, again.

They only stopped when the stitch in her side begged for rest and her aching lungs screamed for air. After a quick check behind her at the empty forest, she focused her attention on the kid.

Jess placed a hand on a tree, leaning on it for support. She bent over, holding the stitch in her side as she tried to breathe again. "What…" she paused, panting, "did you… do," she sucked in another breath, "to attract… so many?"

He had sat down with his head against the tree as he inhaled the air that also seemed to be missing for him too. "I was looking… for my… mom," he started, his voice more tired than fearful, "I went too… far. Got lost." She waited for more. He continued when he could breathe properly. "I got near this road when they saw me, and they were all just _together_. Just walking together. I've never seen so many. I've never even seen one up close before."

She nodded. She had never seen so many together before either. Sure, Atlanta had been crawling with them, but that was in the city. Out here… there was no reason for so many to be together.

She slid down, leaning her back against the tree. She rubbed her shoulder, her mind not ignoring the fact that she was in no position to care for anyone. "We need to get you back to where you came from, kid," she mumbled. "Where's your family at?" When he didn't reply and his eyes glistened with tears, she leaned forward in sympathy. "I mean, your mom's probably worried, right?"

"Yeah," he murmured. He motioned toward a general direction. "Back that way, I think." He wiped his eyes and swallowed, showing all the warning signs of crying. "I don't know," he sniffed.

"Now, now, none of that," she tried, her voice comforting. Jess really didn't want him breaking out in tears, she didn't know if she could handle that. "We'll get you back home, I promise."

He smiled, but it seemed too wobbly to be real.

"What's your name?" he asked, almost shyly.

"Jess," she answered in a soft voice. "And yours?"

He peered up with hopeful, blue eyes and a sweet, childish face tainted with fear and sadness.

"Carl. Carl Grimes."

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**A/N: **So, didja like? Well, didja, DIDJA? YOU MUST TELL ME!

Cuz that wasn't annoying. Oh well, what can you say? I'm persistent.

Thanks for reading! I give all my love to the people who followed, favorited, and reviewed!


	3. On the Road Again

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Walking Dead. Oh, oh wait, you thought I did? You thought I was smart enough to develop and perfect the concepts of all the characters and plot lines?

Well, my friend, flattery will get you nowhere.

* * *

_On the road again_

_Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway_

_We're the best of friends_

_Insisting that the world keep turning our way_

_And our way_

_Is on the road again_

Willie Nelson – On the Road Again

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"Are you sure this is the right way?" Jess yelled. She ducked under a low hanging limb, following the visible footsteps in front of her. She craned her neck, trying to see Carl's moving form through the trees. "Hey, kid!"

She felt the slight tingle of panic and sucked in a breath. She opened her mouth to call louder.

"Yeah!" She let out the breath before closing her mouth. Crunching sticks and twigs sounded loudly before a face peeked out behind a cluster of trees. "At least, I'm pretty sure," he shrugged.

"Carl, come here," she commanded, slight annoyance in her voice. His innocent face, clear of the fear and shyness it had only an hour ago, glanced up with confusion. "Don't run off like that, little dude. You about scared the shi- crap out of me."

He fell in beside her, matching her step for step. "Aw, Come on, Jess, I was only a little ways away," he complained, his freckled nose crinkled in irritation. She raised her eyebrows.

"Isn't that how you ended up in this whole situation in the first place? By running off?" He crossed his arms and turned his face away. She sighed. "Look, I'm not your mom. In fact, I only just met you, like, an hour or two ago, but I'd like to think in the time we've spent running for our lives and sweating are asses- butts off in the woods, we've bonded. So, excuse me, if I'm worried about you being eaten alive by flesh-munching monsters all because I was stupid enough to let you run around on your own."

He appeared to look a little guilty so she nodded to herself and dropped the scolding façade, all too eager to lose the tone her own mother used when _she _was in trouble as a kid.

"You sound just like my mom," he pouted. She frowned. She had never had the desire to have kids. That didn't mean she didn't like them. Her reason was more based in fear; she could barely care for herself, how could she mother a child? "Except that you swear way more than she does."

Jess smiled lightly. "I haven't been around kids in… well, in quite a while, actually," she supplied.

"I'm not a kid," Carl denied instantly. He puffed out his chest and lengthened his strides. "I'm twelve and a half."

She put her hands up and held in a laugh. "Sorry, my mistake," she responded, her voice thick with barely restrained sarcasm.

"Shane says I'm the man of the family now," Carl continued as if she hadn't spoken, his eyes glassy with a faraway glint, "he says, one day, I'll grow up and be just like my dad."

"Your dad? What's he like?" Jess asked, now more interested than amused. "Who's Shane?" Carl became quiet.

When he finally answered, his voice was low and sober. "Shane's my dad's friend. He's been taking care of us since my dad went into his coma." He didn't cry like most children at the mention of something so terrible, but the haunted hollowness in his eyes made her regret her questions anyway. "Mom didn't even have to say that he died. When we left town, I just sorta knew, ya know?"

She didn't want to give him hope, but she couldn't stop herself from replying, "You don't know that, he could've survived." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I made it this far, and I'm about as hopeless as a person can be." She hated herself as she continued to fill him with false hope. "Yep, he could've woken up. He could be trying to get to you right now, maybe."

The corner of his mouth quirked up softly. "Maybe." She felt guilt welling up inside of her. If it was her, she would want the straight truth. For all she knew, his mom or "Shane" could have put a bullet through the man's head before they left, and neglected to tell Carl. She couldn't say that though and she couldn't bear to watch his small face twist up in grief, so she lied.

"Hey, Carl-"

"Look! That's where I fell down!" he shouted, distracting her. Sure enough, the dirt had a prominent indention in it. She leaned over, plucking a tattered piece of cloth off the ground. It suspiciously matched the color of Carl's shirt.

"Hm, I guess we are going the right way." She had definitely had her doubts. "How much longer till we reach your camp?" she asked, straitening up.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't running long before I fell." He turned his head from side to side, as if trying to figure out which way to go. He pointed toward a mass of bushes. "I think… that's where I found the road." He jerked his thumb toward a thick wall of trees. "So that should be the way to camp."

"Alright, I guess." Carl hadn't been wrong so far. The kid had a good memory, that was for sure. It wasn't like she had anything left to lose. She moved to pull the last of her water out of her pack before resuming her walk. After taking a few sips, she gave the bottle to Carl. "So what's your camp like?"

He squinted his eyes, as if picturing it. "It's okay. There's a lot of people, but I really only play with Sophia, Eliza, and Louis," he started before taking a large swig of water. She nodded, waiting for him to continue. "There's Shane, and my mom, of course. And Glen, except, he goes for "runs" a lot, so I don't really see him. Then there's this really old guy named Dale, he's kind of weird, he stays near his RV mostly." She chuckled.

"Anyone else I should know about?"

"Um, Andrea and Amy also stay in the RV, but they don't really like to talk to anyone. T-Dog's funny, but he's always busy. Oh, there's Merle and Daryl, but my mom doesn't let me talk to them, she says they're not safe."

A strange feeling came over her, one she hadn't felt in… well, ever. Protectiveness.

"Not safe?" she probed, trying to ignore the foreign feeling inside her. She had only just met Carl. She had no familial relation or kinship, she didn't have the right to feel like she needed to shield him from the dangers of the world.

Carl chewed on his lip. "Yeah, I mean, I don't know. They're just really odd. They hate everyone and… they're kind of scary."

Jess waved away the water bottle he tried to hand back. "I think your mom's right, you should stay away from them," she agreed. He rolled his eyes.

"You really do sound like my mom. I think she'll like you." Carl peered up at her with a friendly smile. "I think everyone will. And you can stay in our tent, ours is the biggest anyway, and it's just my mom and me," he explained, slight excitement in his tone.

"Um, well," she swallowed and her hand unconsciously came up to grip her shoulder, applying pressure to the scratch. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay, Carl."

He looked more alarmed than she thought he would be. "What? Why? Why not?"

"I just think it would be best for me, and for you, and everyone really, if I left. I won't fit in and… I do better on my own. You know, it's just better if I don't stay." She avoided his bright blue eyes that were staring at her as if she had grown two heads.

"But- you… you have to! Where will you go?" Carl interrogated. He slowed down slightly and she matched pace with him. "Do you have somewhere else to be? You can't just leave, my mom won't let you."

"Look, kid-"

"I am not a kid!" he complained. He stamped his foot. "And you're staying."

She rubbed her shoulder, practically bruising it with how hard she was clenching her fingers. She exhaled a tired breath. "Here's what I can do. I'll wait, maybe an hour or so, and if I fit in… maybe," she paused, "_maybe_, I'll stay."

She didn't tell him there was no way in hell she would stay. She didn't tell him she would rather die right here than endanger anyone, kids no less. She didn't tell him that she only had about another twenty hours before she either killed herself or became a bloodthirsty beast.

His face slowly relaxed from the hard frown. "You'll fit in, I promise," he grinned encouragingly.

"Yeah, well… maybe, we'll see, I guess," she smiled uncertainly.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, her head ducked down. A tug on her elbow startled her out of the quiet. "Jess," Carl whispered.

She didn't even need to glance at him. His frightened voice was enough to alert her to the problem.

She led him to a tree, hiding him behind the wide trunk. "Stay here," she ordered. He didn't even try to refuse. He had paled to a sickly white and his lips had thinned out to a distressed line. She patted his shoulder, offering any comfort she could, before creeping around the tree.

She had no trouble pulling her knife out this time. She held it steadily in her hand as she inched closer.

To her knowledge, the thing hadn't noticed her. The grabber had long, stringy black hair. The only indication of it gender was the ragged, colorless dress hanging off its bony shoulders. Bare feet stumbled around on dirt and grass. The woman had an eye gauged out and a chunk of her cheek ripped off. She was staring intently, with her one good eye, at a squirrel chattering angrily at her from a tall branch. Even from a few feet away, Jess could hear the heavy breathing and occasional hiss.

She knew now wasn't the time to leave things up to chance, but she couldn't help herself. She had the perfect target: a still, motionless grabber. The thing barely hit five feet tall. Frail skin and bones were the only thing left to show for a healthy life once lived.

Jess set her wrist and raised her arm up. She squinted her eyes, bit her tongue, and silently breathed. She aimed a few times, even going through with the motions to make sure she wouldn't miss, before finally launching it. She let go of the handle with an audible exhale.

Jess nearly squealed in victory as her weapon hit the back of the grabber's head, sinking into the soft flesh and lodging into the old bone.

"Yes," she breathed, silent triumph packed heavily into the lone word. She jogged over to the corpse, bending over to yank the knife out. "Come on out, Carl! Everything's fine."

She heard his soft footsteps in the grass behind her. "It's dead?" he questioned, his voice small.

She turned around, wiping the knife off on the bark of a nearby tree. "Yeah, we're safe, it was an easy one," she assured.

He hesitantly ambled over, making a wide arc around the body to avoid any contact.

"Good, those things really freak me out," he shuddered, eyeing the corpse with distaste. He jerked on her elbow. "Let's get out of here."

Jess glanced down at the body, cringing at the blood pooling around the head. It reminded her of her own encounter. Though the grabber that had infected her was the exact opposite of the one in front of her now, the underlying meaning was the same. The blood, the disease, it still resided. She didn't feel comfortable being so close to a zombie when she was on the verge of becoming one.

"Couldn't agree more, kid," she smiled sadly, "couldn't agree more."

* * *

**A/N:** Awww, bonding time. Now, keep in mind, the disease can take like twenty-four hours to take effect, and it's only been like a few hours or so, though it seems longer.

Hope everyone enjoyed, I finally added to my profile, so feel free to check it out. Love for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. I would be happier than a redneck on all you can eat ribs Tuesday if you tell me what you think about my story! Thanks for reading!


	4. Country Boys

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Walking Dead. Uggggghhhhhhh, but why not? _Why_? Okay, this is making me terribly sad. Somebody wipe my tears.

P.S. I know this song isn't super emotional or symbolic or anything, and it actually doesn't cover the chapter really at all, just like, one super tiny part, but I couldn't resist…

* * *

_You can raise her up a lady_

_But there's one thing_

_You just can't avoid_

_Ladies love country boys_

Trace Adkins – Ladies Love Country Boys

* * *

"… and that's why, to this day, I'm afraid of apples," Jess finished, her cheeks tinted lightly in an embarrassed blush.

"You- you killed a walker!" Carl pointed out incredulously. He stared at her in amazement, as if trying to decide whether she was joking or not. "But you're scared of apples?"

"I'm being serious," she sniffed. Jess grimaced at the thought of the sweet fruit. "Try biting into an apple and finding a worm in it, then see if you're okay with them." She shivered in disgust. He still eyed her as if he were questioning her sanity. "So maybe "afraid" isn't the right word. I'm just "wary", I guess."

Carl shook his head, his expression still thoroughly stumped. "Whatever," he muttered, his eyebrows furrowed. "Just… whatever."

"Hey, you're the one who asked me what I'm most scared of," she reminded, her finger jabbing into his shoulder, "you should've known what you were getting into."

"I thought you would say walkers or sharks or something!" he cried.

She wiped the sweat off her brow. "Well, too bad. I'm fuck- freaking weird, deal with it." She tugged on the shirt she was wearing. Numerous, unsightly sweat stains covered the fabric. "So what about you? What are you most afraid of?" she asked, eager to shift the attention away from herself.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Walkers... and bats."

Jess nodded her head in understand. "Bats are pretty creepy," she agreed, choosing not to comment on the other answer.

Carl wrinkled his nose. "I'm a little more worried about the "flesh-munching monsters"," he mumbled sarcastically. She pursed her lips in disapproval, noticing his familiar word choice.

"Yeah, well, if you get rid of any apples we find, I'll get rid of any grabbers," she bargained. He grinned. "We have a deal?"

"Deal," he granted readily. She smiled, noticing for the first time in a while that it was actually real.

They had been walking for at least another hour and she was back to questioning Carl's judgment and sense of direction. The sun would be setting soon and she didn't want him out in the forest after dark. More importantly, she didn't want him out here with _her_ after dark.

"So, do you think we're getting- what the hell is this?" After getting over her initial surprise, Jess stared down suspiciously. She kneeled down. After plucking the string and making the cans rattle softly, she found the answer to her question. "You guys set up a barrier?" She was relieved at knowing they had either hit the camp or were about to.

"Yeah, it's supposed to make noise when the walkers trip over it," Carl informed, reciting the information as if he had memorized it. "That way we know one of them is coming."

"Does is work?" she questioned, still eyeing the crude, homemade alarm system. Old soup and bean cans threaded together on a piece of thick twine, stretching so far through the forest she almost couldn't see where the whole thing ended.

"It's supposed to work…" Jess flicked her eyes to Carl. "But we haven't had one near the camp yet," he shrugged.

Jess chewed on her lip. She thought about setting it off and making a run for it, leaving the camp residents to find and bring back Carl. They surely weren't far from his people. The human ear could only receive sound from a certain distance. It would be useless if these people had set this barrier up too far away to hear it.

That fact went both ways though. She couldn't hear anyone from their spot in the woods. If the group had moved on without Carl or been overrun, she couldn't live with herself knowing she had ditched him. The kid would be all alone, and he wouldn't survive long on his own, not with so many grabbers now roaming the forest.

"Okay," Jess sighed. It hadn't even occurred to her that his camp might be deserted or that everyone might be dead. It had only been a couple of hours since Carl ran off, but as far as she could tell, no one was out looking for him. She didn't hear frantic calls in the woods or see footprints from desperate searchers. "Let's get going." She carefully stepped over the cans, making sure Carl did the same. "I don't want them to mistake us for grabbers," she supplied after seeing his puzzled face.

And with the amount of dirt and sweat on the both of them, that could very well happen.

She grasped onto his hand tightly, suddenly nervous and uncertain.

"What's wrong?" Carl whispered anxiously. Jess swallowed, noticing how her fear was affecting him.

"Nothing," she assured.

They crept towards the camp. She walked along calmly while Carl practically bounced with excitement.

She only relaxed when she heard the sounds of human voices.

Jess dropped Carl's hand. They took the next few steps through the trees much more quickly and casually. The trees thinned out into a tent filled clearing, complete with everything needed for a long stay in the woods. A quarry could be spotted a long walk away. They stood beside an RV, just barely out of sight. She was surprised at the size of the camp. Tents and makeshift shelters were scattered all around, far enough apart give everyone their own space. She nearly got lost trying to count all the people milling around.

Carl nudged her before pointing to a beautiful woman with long, dark hair. She sat on a log, sobbing and fraught with worry. Even though tears streamed down her red and puffy face, she still managed to argue vehemently with a tall, dark haired man sitting next to her. "That's my mom," he murmured.

Jess nudged him back, a small smile on her face. She felt immense relief at getting Carl back to his mother. She felt sad at seeing him go. More than that though, she felt hopeless. Helping Carl had given her purpose and taken her mind off her impending death, but now, she had nothing and no one.

"Go," she urged, suddenly holding back tears and sorrow.

He ran off without looking back, barreling toward his mother with a wide grin and a laugh. "Mom!" he yelled.

The woman stood up faster than Jess thought possible. She turned around, her mouth agape and her eyes brimming with more tears.

"Carl?" she cried, her voice high pitched and wobbly. She swayed as Carl practically jumped on her, folding his arms around her thin waist. Jess smiled. The lady was beaming and crying and babbling all at once. None of her words made sense, but they sounded half loving and half scolding.

Jess felt pride in herself. Another feeling she hadn't experienced in quite a while. The kid was making her all soft and girly. She swiped at her own tears and sniffed. "I need to get my shit together," she mumbled with a small laugh.

She blamed her overly sentimental feelings on the infection. It was affecting her hormones.

At that thought, her blissful bubble popped. She remembered exactly what a danger she posed to everyone. To all these people. To Carl. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, noting that no one had noticed her arrival. She backed up slowly, impatient to escape before Carl mentioned her name.

She slowly melted back into the trees before finally turning around.

And running right into a strong, muscled chest.

Jess bit her tongue, holding in a string of curses, as her eyes drifted up to a hardened face.

"Um, hi…" she muttered pathetically. Cold, blue eyes somehow managed to burn her whole body. His thin goatee just barely covered a sharp jaw. His rough, chapped lips formed a tight frown. His light brown hair was short, but growing out in unruly ends. His tanned face was tense with an irritated, slightly angry expression. In the female part of her mind, she fervidly took notice of tanned muscles and a lean body; of the dirt stained, sleeveless shirt that accentuated a body earned through a hard worked, labor filled life.

However, the rational part of her mind immediately catalogued the dangerous looking crossbow slung across his back, the gun at his hip, and his blood stained hands.

Jess just barely restrained a panic attack, the blood drained squirrels hanging from his back providing a sufficient excuse.

"The fuck 're ya?" he growled in a thick accent, leaning over her. She narrowed her eyes.

She had to be the unluckiest person in the whole apocalyptic world. First she got bitten, then she befriended a kid she inevitably had to abandon, and now she was about to be murdered by a serial killing, squirrel hunting, crossbow wielding, redneck out in the woods of Georgia.

She struggled to answer. "Who the fuck are you?" she countered smartly.

She mentally scolded herself for not being better at insults under pressure. She cast her bitter thoughts aside and focused on seeming intimidating. She pulled herself up to her full height, just barely hitting his nose. He licked his lips before setting his jaw. "Yer in m' camp, so ah suggest ya answer rethink tha' response," he warned, his arms flexing threateningly.

If she wasn't a jumbled mixture of fear, turmoil, and anger, she would have definitely paid more attention to his broad, flexing limbs.

As it was, she didn't have time for her lustful thoughts, she was too busy glaring.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she denied forcefully, trying to hide her terror. Jess held in a frightened squeak as he took a menacing step forward, nearly putting them chest to chest. "I wasn't doing anything bad!" she hurried to explain. He smirked slightly and it brought back the anger. "So I'll just be on my way." She moved to push him away, but he caught her wrist before a finger even touched his chest. Her eyes met his. His blue seemed triumphant and she knew her hazel were showing pure rage. "Get your fucking hands off of me," she hissed.

His grip tightened in response. It wasn't that she had a problem with being touched, more that she had a problem being_ handled_. A bad ex-boyfriend had ensured that she would never again be able to tolerate much, if any, physical violence.

It was one of the reasons her con list would always and forever have her ability to fight marked down on it.

Jess had nothing left to lose. She could die _right now_ and it _wouldn't matter_, because she would be dead, in one way or another, tomorrow anyway. So, despite knowing she couldn't fight, she tensed, preparing to lash out. As if reading her thoughts, his fingers loosened and dropped. He didn't back up, and his blues eyes still watched her intently, waiting for answers or actions.

"Jess!" a familiar voice called. She snapped her gaze from the redneck to anywhere else, searching for an escape. "Hey! Jess! Where'd you go?" She took a step toward the opposite direction the voice came from. She didn't make it a foot before she saw Carl bolting toward her from the brush. He stopped, flitting his eyes from the redneck to her almost suspiciously. "Oh, there you are."

"Hey, Carl," she answered, backing away from the man who still stood to close for comfort. "Who is this?" she asked, gesturing to the masculine male who shifted from one foot to the other, not saying a word.

"That's…" Carl moved toward her, whether for his protection or hers, she didn't know. "Daryl," he finished.

"Oh," she replied softly. As she took in Carl's mistrustful, wary eyes, she remembered.

"_There's Merle and Daryl, but my mom doesn't let me talk to them, she says they're not safe."_

"_Oh_," she gasped. Her body, of its own accord, moved to stand directly in front of Carl. Daryl seemed to notice her movement before even she did. "Let's get back to your mom, Carl. And remember what I told you about running off?"

"Sorry," he answered quietly. She reluctantly turned her back on the stranger, pushing Carl toward the direction of camp. Every nerve in her body felt frazzled and frayed, and all she wanted to do was turn around; try and figure Daryl out.

While he had seemed angry and hostile at first, he had backed off once he determined out she didn't pose a threat. He had seen her boundaries and not pushed past them. He hadn't hurt her, merely stopped her from doing anything.

She couldn't decide whether he was truly a danger or not.

But Carl certainly seemed to think so, as did his mother, apparently.

She could feel her curiosity getting the better of her. She mumbled a few colorful profanities under her breath, knowing what she needed to do, if not for her own sake, then Carl's.

Jess would have to get to the bottom of Daryl Dixon.

And she would have to do it before she died.

* * *

**A/N:** Aaaannnd, she met Daryl! Plus, Carl made it back to his mom! What did you think? I'll be honest, though I have a basic plot line and direction for this story, I'm sort of spit balling Jess and basing her off my own personality.

So, tell me if that's working or not.

I give my great thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and/or reviewed. Thank you bunches for the support! I have a Merle/OC story up called Captured, check it out if that interests you! I personally love both Dixon brothers equally, so I just had to do two stories.

Thanks for reading!


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